


The Drum Where Your Heart Should Be

by JellyDishes



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 07:40:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20962916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JellyDishes/pseuds/JellyDishes
Summary: Zevran and Morrigan struggle with the names for things, the way they do with how those words settle into their chests.





	The Drum Where Your Heart Should Be

**Author's Note:**

> I love and appreciate comments, but please do have patience with my responses to them due to my anxiety.

Zevran watched Morrigan out of the corner of his eye as she paced around one evening at camp. She’d cupped her elbows, brows furrowing more and more with every step until at last she spoke when she was turned partially away. “Why does she try so hard convince me that I can say whatever I want to her? We both know there are limits. Even outside of trying to bite her head off,” she snorted. 

“And here you stand as a human. One assumes that she was referring to honesty or some such thing. Communication is supposed to be a foundation of strong relationships of any flavor, is that not so?”

He could _ feel _ her mouth twist in the direction of the roll of her eyes. “If it is, so is listening. I just told you, no one genuinely wants honesty. It is… it is a trap of some kind. She isn't a hero, can't be. Not for me. What say you about that?” 

The question came out sharp as the fangs of her various animal forms, but his answer was soft and mild as butter. "If there are heroes, they are not meant for one such as I," he told her as he stitched a small tear in his glove. He smiled down at torn leather and fur, but it was tilted in a way that almost made it look sorrowful instead of thoughtful.

"You've also said not to believe you," she told him.

"Ah, but of course I was lying when I said that." His teeth flashed, and in the flickering firelight, you could almost have mistaken it for another smile.

There was a pause, one filled not just with silence but also with significance. “You also dance around what I want to hear.”

“What you want to hear me say, are words borrowed from your mother. And frankly, my dear witch of the wild places, they don't taste very appealing.” He still wasn't looking at her when she hesitated, but she was watching him, and so she saw the downturn of his own mouth. “But you are right in that hearing such things long enough will turn your ears to softer things. I try my best not to lie at all when I can avoid it, but you and I still expect it of me. One fact exchanged for another.”

He glanced up just in time to see pain chase itself across her face. He looked back down. “Better for you to lie.” Her voice had dropped to be barely audible, and he said nothing about it. Why would he? Instead, he allowed her to withdraw, the same way she had allowed it of him. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was based upon a short blurb I wrote for character aesthetics on my main tumblr, and someone asked for a longer piece. Who am I to say no to a bad idea?


End file.
